Wonderful World: the extension package
by Zeff N Company
Summary: Where was Laguna during the course of events? How did Leon and Cloud first get Angelo? What happened in the years before, after and inbetween? [a list of drabbles based on the AU parody Wonderful World, in turn based on the movie As Good as it Gets.]
1. The First Step

**Wonderful World (the extension package):**

My thanks to everyone who reviewed **_Wonderful World_**.

I'm also in need of more ideas...so...

...help?

**The Very First Step  
**Prequel to the parody **_Wonderful World_**, based on the AU parody inspired by "As Good As It Gets".

To those sitting on their front steps waiting for that someone to come home.

* * *

He was still sitting there. Just as he had been sitting there in those brief minutes before classes started, and during lunch period while eating the academy's distributed army rations, and during each and every break they were given.

Right there, upon the front steps, and upon the very first step. He even had the same posture throughout each sitting; his back was slight hunched as he leaned forward, his elbows rested on his knees, and his head rested in his palms.

All the instructors had identified him by his first name, without stating any last name. That had merely served to fuel the flames of the rumors that the new cadets were already starting to spread among themselves; ugly rumors about self-mutilation, parental abuse, homelessness, experimentation, a freakish accident, even criminal offense...really ugly rumors.

Many were obviously ridiculous and impossible, but yet were somehow enough for the other young cadets to give him a wide berth.

"Why are you staring at me?"

The boy was looking his way now, although his posture was still the same.

"I'm not staring."

"You've been staring at me since this morning."

Busted. One could either deny and start a petty fight, or admit and resolve.  
The latter it would be.

"Okay, I was; sorry."

The boy returned his focus to the front gates of the academy, no longer regarding the other who was standing there.

Finally, he walked up and stood next to him.  
"So...what are you doing?"

"None of your business."

"I swear I won't tell anyone?"

He looked his way again. "Cross your heart, hope you die, and hope Hyne condemns your soul to oblivion?"

"Cross my heart, hope I die, and hope Hyne condemns my soul to oblivion.  
"_Now_ tell me what you're doing."

A nod of approval, and a reply.  
"Waiting."

"For who?"

"Sis."

"Who?"

"Sis", he stated again, as though it was obvious enough. And as he spoke, he pointed to the gates.  
"She went off with soldiers from the other nation; told me she'd be back soon."

"When did that happen?"

"When I was three."

"Two years ago?"

"So she should be here any time now."

And the boys fell back into silence, one resuming his vigil and staring at the gates, the other staring at him and unsure of his next move.

It was a few beats of strange silence before the latter spoke again.  
"Is it okay if I sit a while and wait with you?"

The former shrugged. "Whatever; do what you want."

The latter did not need another grant of permission as he sat himself on the same step, side by side with the other boy. The two of them continued to stare at the gate, watching and waiting for whom might possibly come through them.

Then the latter turned a little, his eyes not leaving their point of focus.  
"By the way, I'm Cloud."

The other did not move, and did not respond right away. But he eventually did.

"I'm Squall."

* * *

**RogueFanKC**: Thank you very much for your last review; it really touched me and made urged me to keep trying with each day. It's for readers such as yourself that I keep writing.

**Niana Kuonji**: Longer...chapters...twitch-twitch-twitch-twitch-twitch.  
Actually, yes, I understand what you mean; I often kick myself for short chapters that I just can't seem to make longer. Everyone likes to get more out of an update; even the writer.  
I'll keep trying, I mean it! ...this from the guy who just threw some short-stuff here...  
...ARGH! I KNOW I can make the next chapter longer...I just know...-splat.

**Angstluver**: Well, here's a little more for your reading pleasure; hope it meets the par.

**Shiri Matakami**: You did? Thanks, that made me feel better. I'm really unused to writing uber-happy for people like Leon (then again, Kingdom Hearts II didn't have a problem turning him into Mr. Social.)  
Oh, and the next chapter has Laguna, so here's hoping you like it.

**Shinigami7**: I'm sorry about Leon, too. The original ending was too upsetting for my alpha of beta-readers, so she insisted that I salvage the situation SOMEHOW. Then...things...happened. And I spent several hours sitting with my legs crossed.  
And yes, I too like how Sephiroth came out. No one in the universe of Square Enix could do the job I assigned him. Here's to one of the greatest gaming villains of all time.

**Ashti**: Thanks for reviewing again; it means a lot to me. Well, I hope this "extension package" meets the standards of its predeccesor.

**Darth Maligna**: I'm glad; it's been a while since I came back to the story - gathering reference for this one - and I often wondered if my writing suddenly looked more...fan girl-like. Then again, most of my beta-readers - and consequent advisors - are fan girls. Except Flypipe, who fiercely defends both his gender and his sexuality. I'll take what I can get. XD


	2. Happy Father's Day

**Wonderful World (the extension package):**

**Happy Father's Day  
**A previously undocumented event taking place in the AU parody inspired by "As Good As It Gets".

Wow, I've sure been away for a while now. I'd kick myself in a place of good impact, but my feet don't reach that angle.

...I was very, very certain that I would not be writing any more on this one, cos' I didn't know where I'd go without tarnishing the good name of the movie it was inspired by. But then the kids talked me into it.

No, not _my_ kids; I don't have any. I mean my usual "accomplices" of Flypipe and Howling. Those kids. One of them insisted I left it off with so much room to continue, the other kept throwing ideas at me like I was a savage Tonberry on the march.

First of all, I want to mention and credit sakurabatou for inspiration; reading the doujinshi prompted me to try again.

To everyone, I just want to say thank you, for the encouragement, for the reviews, and for the inspiration.

One in a series of Father's Day specials. Hope I make it in time.

* * *

"... Five more minutes..." was the mumbled promise. There was no one to really respond to: his current and only "drinking buddy" was the bartender himself, busy with cleaning his glasses.

Old Pride Leonhart swirled the glass of Corel Alcohol in his hand, staring distractedly as the dark liquid spun in its own miniature whirlpool before him. Then he tilted his head back and downed the whole glassful in one swallow.

When he came back up for air, he found himself coughing, choking on his own breath.  
_... Used to down a whole bottle without breaking a sweat; I **am** getting old..._

As he poured himself a second glassful, he heard the chime of the bell as the door swung open hurriedly. Then he smirked as he heard the shocked gasp of what had to be the receptionist.

"Mr. President! I-!"

"Quick! I was supposed to meet someone an hour ago! Table for Leonhart! One 'e', no 'i'! _Is he still here_?"

"Uh...yessir, Mr. President! He's by the bar-"

Barely gushing a word of thanks, President Laguna Loire hurried pass the stunned receptionist and the equally stunned crowd. Even as he seated himself, the air was filled with hushed murmurs.

Then Pride decided he had had enough, and turned to face the still hovering civilians.

"Nothing to see here, soldier...now_ take your girlfriend somewhere else! **DISMISSED**!_"

The murmurs paused, then the indignant crowd slowly dispersed once more. With a defeated sigh, Pride swung back around and downed another glassful of alcohol.

Beside him, Laguna blinked, regained himself, and started chuckling as he shook his head.  
"...still can't leave the army, can you?"

"Get off my back," Pride mumbled, setting the glass back down as he stifled another cough.

At that moment, the bartender approached them. "Can I get you anything, Mr. President?"

"A bottle of what he's having, and sudden mass-amnesia to make everyone here forget I'm in charge of their city. Thank you."

Then the bartender hurried away, and the two men were left sitting by the counter, finally left in peace.

"So...thanks for coming."

"Yeah, sorry I'm late."

"You're the president, a nation hero, _and_ a celebrity in these parts; I'm surprised you got out of the building at all."

The bartender came back, setting a second bottle of Corel Alcohol and a remarkably clean glass before Laguna with absolute gentleness. Then he was gone again.  
There was another pause, and Laguna picked up the bottle, popped off the pre-opened cap, and poured himself a glassful of the liquid.  
"What did you want to talk about?"

"First, drink half of that."

Laguna obliged him, tilting the glass back and slowly draining its contents.

"I'm bringing your son over come weekend."

The glass was promptly jerked back down as Laguna sprayed Corel Alcohol over the once-shining counter top in what had to be an overly dramatic spit take.

Even as Pride smirked, the entire staff broke out in fluster.

"Mr. President! Is there something wrong with the beverage? We apologize, sir! We'll have it replaced! We'll fire whoever was involved! We'll refund! We'll-"

"I'm _fine_," Laguna coughed out, clearly exasperated. "Just get me a rag to clean this up."

"Yessir, Mr. President! We're so sorry, Mr. President!"

If the counter were clean, Laguna would have supported his arms by the elbows upon it as he groaned into his palms. Next to him, he heard a barely suppressed snigger.

"...you...did that...on purpose."

"I'm one foot in the grave. I'm entitled to a little fun," Pride answered easily, setting his own glass and bottle at a safe distance as panicky staff hastened to mop up the spillage.  
"But it's true; I talked to a friend of theirs over the phone - gonna surprise them tomorrow, then fly them over here."

"So Squall's really coming..."

"...you didn't know?"

"My secretary didn't mention any...oh..."

"Yes," Pride agreed solemnly. "Time for you to specifically instruct the desk to file 'Leonhart' properly under 'family', instead of with the faux claims."

Laguna waited for the cloth to swipe the area in front of him dry before he landed face down upon it, groaning into the marble surface.  
"What am I going to do," he murmured. "What do I _say_ to him? I'm ashamed to admit, but I know almost nothing about him since the last eight years..."

"First off, he changed his name to Leon, so no calling him 'Squall'. Secondly, he got burgled and assaulted with his own merchandise, so do _not_ mention his work. Thirdly, a...lot...has happened in eight years, so don't start getting critical about how he leads his life."

Laguna promptly bolted upright again. "He's self-mutilating? Growing out his hair? Going punk? Don't tell me - I knew it! My son's become a rebellious teenager-"

"He's _twenty-five_, for Hyne's sake; calm down."

When Laguna finally settled again, Pride continued.

"He's also married."

Laguna stopped himself from pouring himself another glassful, and carefully set the bottle down as he waited for the other shoe to fall.

"To his academy buddy Cloud. He's gay."

Laguna promptly fell out of his chair. Next to him, Pride calmly drank his own glassful of alcohol before concluding:  
"Now you at least know something about him."

"... I...don't know whether to be strangely fascinated...or blown away..."

"You're on the floor. Decision made."

Slowly, Laguna peeled himself off said floor and eased himself back onto the barstool. Mercifully, Pride allowed him to down two glasses of Corel Alcohol before they resumed their conversation.

"...I still don't know what to do. I mean, I'm no good with advice-"

"You don't have to be; just be there for him, listen to him, and let him know you care. Oh, and have your wallet ready.  
"As it is, he's at the lowest point of his life, and right now, he doesn't need advice. He needs a father."

Laguna allowed himself a chuckle. "...a father, eh?"

Pride smirked, waving the bottle that he was now directly drinking from. "I had to play 'Dad' for the both of 'em since they were five; _your_ turn to sprout a head full of gray.  
"Barkeep, get me another bottle."

The next few minutes passed in silence as they waited for the third bottle of Corel Alcohol to show. When it finally did, it was another one minute of pouring, swirling and downing before anything more was said.

"... you've missed them all these years, haven't you?"

"Until it hurts. Those kids...they...I raised those kids for a good portion of my life; I always figured even if I were too old for my job, I'd never be too old to be there for them. Guess I needed them more than they needed me."

"Then why hand them over to me?"

"... I can't go to bed angry."

The final confession came out barely above a whisper. By now, the third bottle was half empty, as the alcohol loosened his tongue and let his true feelings flow.

"... If I'm not carrying unpleasantness down to my grave, neither are the kids, and neither are you. You and Sq...Leon...you both deserve at least one good shot to fix things. All these years, I let one stupid mistake turn into something ugly, and let another stupid mistake make it all the more worse. I couldn't breathe my last, look up and face my daughter knowing that there was so much left undone."

"... I had my faults, too -"

"We both did. But now is not the time for blame; now is the time to put things right."

Pride turned in his seat, placing a firm hand on Laguna's shoulder.

"Take care of them...son."

"Thank you, sir."

The last of the bottle vanished straight down the old man's throat, his face now flushed as he wavered in drunk musing. Finally, he took his hand back and buried his face in it.

"Why don't...err...you go on back first, eh? I think...I'll pass out here..."

Laguna got to his feet and gently shook the older man. "Come on; let me take you back to your room."

"But I like it here," the older man replied, stubbornly staying on his spot, even as he nearly fell flat on his face when his elbow slipped.

Ignoring the drunk protests that kept on coming, Laguna pulled the older man to his feet. Pride uttered something unintelligible as he fumbled in his pocket and attempted to cast his entire threadbare wallet onto the table.

"Man's gotta...pay his debts."

Then he was out cold.

Shaking his head, Laguna paid the bill for the both of them, then took back the wallet. As he attempted to slide it back into Pride's jacket pocket, a slip of something came free, jutting out of the bottom.

Setting the old man back down, Laguna carefully opened the wallet, and retrieved the paper. It was a card - old, probably older than the wallet itself, that it looked ready to fall apart at the very creases. The words, though, were still recognizable, and were scrawled in a child's handwriting with a black pen. His son's handwriting he suddenly realized.

_...he meant so much to you._

Carefully returning the card to a safer recess in one of the many compartments that barely held together, he reached forward to help him up again, only to instead place the hand on the head of greasy hair that hadn't been washed yet. Awkwardly, not knowing what else to do, he started to scratch almost timidly at one particular spot - the same spot he remembered from when he was young, still recovering from his cliff jump, watching Raine tease her sleeping father by scratching it as though he were a really big dog.

The result was still the same, as the old man started to mutter something that sounded like very comfortable approval. As Laguna was prompted to keep scratching at that spot, he sat down once more. As the muttering continued, he smiled.

Pride probably couldn't hear him now, but the words came anyway.

"Thank you, Dad. For everything."

* * *

To Flypipe, seeing as how I know you'll be reading this - you've probably got the bloody thing BOOKMARKED in Mozilla Firefox:_  
I truly do appreciate how supportive you've been, and thank you for donating Pride Leonhart to me. Yes, I know, you're still upset that ol' Pride doesn't appeal to his audience in **Case of Leonhart**, but it has nothing to do with his character. Read **Wonderful World** again, and you'll see how many people liked him.  
Tell Howling I said hi. My best to the both of you._

Err...BACK TO MY STATION!

**_Coming up:_** **more stories of life back at the academy for Leon and Cloud.**

**Anyone with a suggestion? Anyone with a personal request? ... REVIEW AWAY!**


	3. The Long Journey

**Wonderful World (the extension package):**

**Scenes From The Back  
**Prequel to the parody **_Wonderful World_**, based on the AU parody inspired by "As Good As It Gets".

Sorry I took so long for this - as I said in **_Whale Song_**, I had several ideas. My problem was finishing the thoughts as I laid them out.

Well, here's where I want to mention and thank the inspiration for this short: I managed a rare chance to have a nice, long talk with Flypipe (he was online instead of Howling, who was asleep over her assignment storyboards at the moment). I asked him what inspired Pride Leonhart's character development in the first place, and he told me a story about his own experience growing up with his uncle. It was good talking to him, and in turn drove me to write something for Leon and Pride, in the style of an incident between a young Flypipe and his own relative.

This is the result - please sit back, relax, and enjoy.

* * *

Growing up in a military academy was not as easy as one would expect. Although Squall was the physical instructor's grandson, the only "allowance" he was given - and later shared with Cloud - was staying in the staff lodges instead of the dorms. Each day of his young life was still filled with the same discipline, training, learning, training, tests, and yet more training that was expected of his fellow junior classmen. What few reprieves they had from their routine was breaks, curfew, and weekends. Of these reprieves, there were two activities that were, ironically, routine. One was sitting on the academy's front steps and waiting for Sis' return. 

The other was the road trips to the nearby cities.

Once every few weeks, an instructor would go to the cities to pick up job offers for the graduated students, prospective field examination locations for the graduating, and other newsletters addressed to the academy from the government. Each time, Instructor Leonhart would drive them there. Each time, Squall and Cloud - both barely old enough - would clamber into the bed of the old pickup truck along with Lefty, a scruffy blue Merle that had "adopted" Squall one day and had since refused to leave despite any amount of persuasion and threat alike.

Occasionally, their peer mentor Zack Fair would come along for the ride - so he could get a "decent drink" - and would fill the trip with idle, one-sided conversation. Mostly, he talked about his dreams of seeing the world. Mostly, he spoke of doing everything possible while he was still young. Mostly, Cloud was his only interested audience, the young lad also considering such things for his future; Squall, on the other hand, felt such talk to be empty, and chose instead to ignore him.

Most of the time, though, they were without a fourth, and the ride was filled with accustomed silence. Squall would sit with his back to the cab, Cloud in the middle of the bed, with their legs bent slightly in what little space there was with the dog between them, nose on Squall's knee and tail over Cloud's thigh. There they would sit, and all that would echo around them was the constant complaining of the engine, the panting of the dog, assorted sounds from occasional curious desert monsters, and the clacking of the metal against metal.

It was on a particularly long day such as this one, after Instructor Leonhart dropped off Zack for the evening, that then eight-year-old Cloud suddenly raised his head and looked up at the sky as he pondered on their peer mentor's words.

"...Squall?"

"...?"

"How big do you think the world is?"

"I dunno," Squall answered, trying unsuccessfully to nudge Lefty off his knee. "Didn't think about it."

"...think we'll get to see it all some day?"

Squall shrugged. "None of it is going anywhere."

"How do we know that?"

Squall looked up, forgetting the dog as it snuggled down even more. Cloud did not look back at him, his focus still on the sky and the many colors of sunset that streaked through it. Not even as he continued his thought.

"...what if it isn't there? I mean...they gotta rebuild some time. What if we don't see it before they do that? What if...you know, Zack did say that some of that stuff was still in planning or construction...what if they don't actually finish it, so it doesn't really exist?

"What if what we're looking for isn't there?"

Squall did not answer, once again glaring at Lefty as it continued to lay on his knee, panting.

As the truck continued diligently on its unseen path, Cloud's attention drifted to the sandy desert that surrounded them.  
"...sure is a long trip."

"...we'll get there."

Cloud looked at Squall out of the corner of his eye, posing a silent question.

"This desert...everything looks the same. There's no actual road or road signs...nothing but sand. It's like we'll always be on the move, like there's no end to this journey...

"...but we'll get there. We can't say for sure...probably never...but we know it's there. And we'll get to it. It's a long trip, but we'll get there in the end."

Again Squall looked away from the dog, and their eyes met.

"...we'll both go. Someday. We...well...we might not see it all, but...what we're looking for. It'll be there.

"And we'll find it."

Time seemed to slow down in that moment, the droning around them suddenly less obvious to their perceptions. Squall was the first to look away, taking interest in the grooves along the length of the truck bed. Cloud stared at him for a while, and then returned his own gaze to the sky once more. It was now nightfall, and stars filled the darkness with tiny specks of light.

Then, there was the scrape of leather against metal, and a grunt of lazy protest from Lefty, then Cloud felt something nudge against his foot. It was Squall's leg, fully stretched, so that their boot caps were touching. Ever the easily embarrassed one, Squall was still devoting his interest to the truck bed.

But Cloud felt a second nudge.

_That was a promise._

Smiling, he continued to gaze at the stars in the sky, as the pickup rumbled along, ever approaching their destination.

_I know._

* * *

_**"In the short time that my uncle raised me, I remember most fondly the road trips before, between and after work, when he let me ride in the back of his delivery truck as he drove through the state. As a young boy, I'd look out from my seat, at the people, at the buildings, at the parks, at anything that came into view, but what I looked at most was the back of his head, and the road before him that never seemed to end.  
"It's been many, many years since I was returned to my parents, but I'll never forget him. Even as I close my eyes now, I see myself on that endless road, riding in the back of that truck. I'd turn and look at the back of my uncle's head, and watch him drive on toward his destination - not seeing it, but knowing that it is there, that he will reach it in the end, no matter what."** - Flypipe, by special request from P-J._

**runkie**: Well, thanks for being the first! I like reviews, and getting them really makes my day. That first one, I wrote in the week right after Wonderful World was finished, but I never had the guts to upload it. Until now. And thanks for the support - after I let Flypipe read your comment on Pride, his mood considerably lightened up for days (or so, as Howling told me). Yeah, he's really proud of that character.

**DanteMoon**: Thanks for the support! I'll keep it up as much as I can.


	4. The First Step II

**Wonderful World (the extension package):**

**The First Step (Reprise)  
**Prequel to the parody _**Wonderful World**_, based on the AU parody inspired by "As Good As It Gets".

Now, the story about Ellone. This one, is one I owe many people to do. For that, I'll have to thank one of my more recent reviewers - Shadow Cat17 - for snapping me out of my reverie to finally get down to it.

For a secondary character, I liked Ellone, especially when she was little. She was an adorable child, and I have the feeling she was a great sister figure, not just to Squall, but to the other orphans in the stone house as well as the white SeeD ship. What I felt had so little touched on, was how she must have felt when she had to leave Squall behind - he was (( as most of us can safely assume )) her surrogate mother Raine's and Uncle Laguna's only son, and no doubt she would have loved him to bits for him to be so heartbroken when she left.

Wonderful World cannot compare to the original, but in the least, it's another way to which I feel assured that something has been said and done. At least, in this one, it's a comfort that Squall knows he's not alone.

* * *

Ever since Squall became more aware, he was instantly attached to his "Sis". Every time Ellone appeared in his line of view, he would reach eagerly for her until she picked him up. And when he at last learned to walk, he toddled after her everywhere she went, wanting to be a part of whatever she did. Sometimes, their old grandfather - tired of trying to distract his grandson - would just sit and watch them with a warm mug of tea in his hand. 

But of course, there's a tricky matter of life that most good things come with a catch. And as attached as little Squall was, he soon became greatly distressed at any separation from Ellone whatsoever. While it was still somewhat adorable at first, it was a problem - after all, Ellone was not a little girl anymore, and no doubt they would have different classes when they both attended school at their own respective times.

And so, a year before Ellone was set to start her education in the academy, Pride saw to it that they began conditioning the boy.

They started it slow - Ellone would step outside, tell Squall that she would return later, and take her leave in the company of a trusted instructor, if only for five minutes. Initially, Squall reacted as they knew he would, and Pride spent the first week holding onto the hysterical child, rubbing his back soothingly and assuring him that she would be back soon.

The second week into conditioning, Ellone started to leave for longer periods of time. As she helped the groundskeeper's wife - activities that kept her both busy and entertained for half a day to a full day - Squall would stare at the door frequently, fidgeting, as he wondered where she was and why she was taking so long. At least now, he was no longer as terrified of her departure, as he knew she only took a while.

As the months passed, Squall learned: his "Sis" could not always be with him, but she would always come back. And if he was good and behaved himself, his Grandpa would let him sit outside the door and wait for her. Sometimes, he would even join him on the steps, and usually with two cups of hot chocolate, so that time would pass more quickly as they waited for the beverages to cool.

It was, all in all, a success, and by the time Ellone was ready for school, Squall had come to see this moment of separation as yet another part of life. Pride had even made it more like a game for the little boy - as Ellone would leave for her lessons, he would grin, swoop up the kid in his arms, let out a gruff, "Right, cadet! You know the drill!" and bring him inside to go on with the rest of the day. And when school was let out in the evenings, little Squall would already be sitting on the steps, and would eagerly meet her as she came home.

* * *

And then the day came when the soldiers arrived. Squall was inside, playing quietly by himself, and - indignant about having potentially armed men anywhere near his grandson - Pride had the soldiers cross-examined outside. When he found out what they had been charged with, and came to understand how this was truly for the best - for his granddaughter, most of all - he finally relented, and asked them to come back the next day. 

Later that evening, he took Ellone aside and explained to her what was going on.

"You'll be fine," he assured her. "I know the Kramers well - if anyone can teach you, it's them. Especially Edea."

"What about Squall?" she had asked.

"I'll take care of him," he promised. "The next time you see him, he'll be the academy's star cadet."

At last, when Ellone agreed to go, he still spent the night restless, watching over the both of them, a part of him finding it so hard to let her go.

* * *

The next day, the soldiers showed up as promised. Ellone, already packed and ready, came out to meet them. Squall, used to seeing her off by now, followed after her, with Pride bringing up the rear. Squall stared up in a mixture of awe and confusion at the soldiers who took some of Ellone's things to load into the car, and then smiled as Ellone turned her attention back to him. As he usually did, he raised his arms for a hug. 

As Ellone wrapped her arms around him, the small boy, in all his three years of age, wondered why she felt a little different than she usually did. Mimicking what Pride often did to comfort him, he patted her back with his small hand.

"Bye, Sis," he whispered.

"...goodbye, Squall," she whispered back. Squeezing him one last time, she broke the embrace and turned to go.

By now, the boy had become used to seeing her depart, used to seeing her walk away with both adults and other children alike. But now, for some reason, he realized something was off. Turning back, he looked up imploringly at his grandfather, if only for some measure of reassurance.

"Grandpa? What's wrong? Where's she going?"

Pride took a deep breath, then knelt down behind the boy and pulled him into his arms, holding him close as they watched the car drive away.

"Don't worry, kid," he mumbled into the child's soft brown hair, "she'll be back soon. She'll be okay."

Even with those words, the little child was able to pick up on his voice - the voice that was usually strong and confident, was now tired, maybe a little wavering.

When his grandfather had not let go of him, he finally patted gently at the arm that was around his waist.

"...I'm okay, Grandpa," he mumbled, staring at the ground. "I know the drill."

Pride had let go of him then, and watched as the child trudged halfheartedly back inside, sparing occasional glances back at the window and the open door along the way.

He too looked back out, at where the car had once been, and the tire tracks that formed in the sandy grounds.

And for the rest of that day, it was the old man who stood there longer than his charge did.

* * *

Ever since that day, he had been waiting. He would help his grandfather do Ellone's share of the chores, behave himself on most part, and then when the time was his, he would sit and wait on the step for her return. 

But in all that time he waited, he did not see her again, and even the deep grooves left by the car on the ground were laid over with new sand, as though they had never been there. Sometimes, he would reach for her pillow, and bury his face in it, if only to find a trace of her scent. By the time he was five, it was almost nonexistent.

And it was that time when he was old enough to begin his training as a proper cadet in the academy. The instructors knew him well, by then, not only through his grandfather, but by having seen him on the steps every evening. And with so many of them younger than their senior instructor Pride, they found it awkward to call Pride's grandson by his last name, and instead called him by his first name. Perhaps, later, if they had been more attentive, they would have realized that it was not the best idea after all.

Taking the chance of school letting out, Squall had found himself a good spot on the steps where he could see the gates clearly, that he may spot anyone who entered through them. And as he did for so long, he sat and waited.

And then his attention drifted to where he knew a pair of eyes had been watching him for a while now.

"Why are you staring at me?"

The boy, caught in the act, turned properly to look back at him.

"I'm not staring," he had protested, to which Squall scoffed.

"You've been staring at me since this morning."

The boy paused, looking down as he scuffed his boot cap against the grounds. At last, he spoke again:

"Okay, I was; sorry."

That was that, and Squall returned his attention to the gate. Only to be interrupted again not a moment later as the boy took it upon himself to come up the steps and stand beside him.

"So...what are you doing?"

"None of your business," Squall had replied curtly, but that had not deterred the boy.

"I swear I won't tell anyone?"

Squall finally relented and gave him his attention a second time. "Cross your heart, hope you die, and hope Hyne condemns your soul to oblivion?"

"Cross my heart, hope I die, and hope Hyne condemns my soul to oblivion," the boy repeated solemnly. "_Now_ tell me what you're doing."

He was sincere - a good trait, his grandfather had taught him. Nodding, he turned back to the gate as he replied:

"Waiting."

"For who?"

"Sis."

"Who?"

"Sis. She went off with soldiers from the other nation; told me she'd be back soon."

"When did that happen?"

"When I was three."

"Two years ago?"

"So she should be here any time now."

There was more silence between them, for a moment. The boy that had disturbed him did not seem to wish to leave so soon, even as he did not really know what to say.

But at last, he did speak again.

"Is it okay if I sit a while and wait with you?"

Squall had shrugged and let him, and he promptly took a seat on the same step, side by side with him. And together, they resumed the vigil.

"By the way, I'm Cloud."

"I'm Squall."

* * *

**Shadow Cat17**: The way you went and reviewed so many of my stories...wow. I'm honored to be regarded so highly. Hope I can meet those expectations! 


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